Changing the Sheets
by bluecellphone
Summary: The sheets never stay clean when you're sleeping with Sylar. Sylar  OC aka you the reader


Note: this story contains an unnamed OC, and I was going for the idea that YOU put yourself in her shoes. I tried not to describe her much so that it could be done. I dunno how well it will work so let me know in reviews, please:D I don't like this one much at all, but I'm posting it anyways for feedback. I own nothing!

The sheets and comforter smelled of flowers; fresh out of the dryer and warm to the touch. She crawled across the bed haphazardly to pull each end taut, giggling as her fingers struggled at the task. Her blue jeans made the job that much harder, restricting her available positions, but she didn't care. She liked the way she looked in them, and she knew he did too.

He was watching her from the other side of the room, leaning against the wall with arms folded across his chest, and an amused smirk on his face. He could easily help her with making the bed by a simple flick of his fingers. The thought had crossed his mind…it had crossed both of their minds, but neither had ever suggested the idea. He liked watching her struggle as her nose crinkled in frustration.

Her hair tumbled around her face, and she kept fidgeting with it, tucking it around one side of her neck. Each time she leaned forward to tug on a corner, it would fall out of place again. Pushing up the white sleeves of her button-up blouse, she sighed, sitting back on her heels, and looked at him.

"I give up!" she laughed, noting her own failure with a light heart. His smile grew slightly bigger, lips pressing tighter together causing dimples to form on either side.

"It was a good attempt," he noted, uncrossing his arms for more comfort. Her eyes studied his clothing from the feet up, wondering why he still liked to dress resembling a man he killed so long ago. Nearly covering his feet to the toes, his tattered jeans hung low on his hips. A slender hint of boxer-brief underwear peeked over the waist of his jeans before giving way to a minute stretch of skin and making the leap to a black t-shirt. Underneath the tee lay a white long sleeve undershirt, of which he insisted on pulling the sleeves over his knuckles, stretching them out.

Noticing her eyes scanning him, he asked,

"Like what you see?" She looked down in embarrassment, smiling, and shifted her legs out from under herself to get up off of the bed. As her bare feet hit the cold wood floor, a chill went through her body.

"It's not so bad," she smiled playfully, looking up into his gaze, which he never removed from her. He started towards her slowly, taking his time with each step. She tucked her hair behind her ear, almost in a nervous fashion. It was hard to explain how this man made her feel. As he was walking towards her, she had a wave of emotion run through her body. She loved him; there was no question about that. And she knew that he loved her. But their relationship was heavily based on passion and lust that couldn't be described in any other way besides dominance. He was a very powerful man; confident and demanding when he wanted something. Whenever he walked towards her with that look in his eye, that slow swagger in his step, he wanted _**her**_.

Standing toe to toe, she tilted her head to look up at him, only to quickly snap it down again a moment later. He was notably taller than her but she didn't mind. She loved looking up into his eyes. They sparkled in the light, full of mystery, slowly tracing her facial features in a fascinated way.

Being this close allowed her to study his face as well. His strong jaw was lined with stubble; not too much, just enough to tickle her face when they were close enough. His mouth always had some sort of smile behind it, quirking up at the corners. Now, his lips were parted slightly in what she assumed was anticipation of a kiss to come. His eyes, oh his eyes. So dark yet so full of life and fervor. They were lined with thick eyebrows that easily showed his emotion by raising either in unison or separately; one jolting above the other. His hair was something she loved to touch; soft, dark brown, and plentiful, always standing in place in a mess of style.

He broke her concentration by reaching up and sliding his right hand between her hair and her cheek, touching it gently. Her eyes closed for a moment at this feeling and she felt a little smile showing through. Upon reopening her eyes, she was nearly startled at him leaning in for a kiss. He raised his other hand to the opposite side of her head, cradling her face in his palms before impact.

Their lips touched softly at first, sending a jolt through her chest. She loved his soft lips on hers; she loved the tickle of stubble on her skin as their chins met. She began to feel herself melt into the air as her muscles relaxed. With an opening of their mouths and a reattachment of their lips, the kiss grew harder. He pushed his mouth into hers, only to have the force immediately reciprocated. Her hand shot up and wrapped around the back of his neck, holding on for support as her knees grew weak.

She could feel his fingertips press slightly harder into the back of her head as the moment grew tenser with excitement. Stepping forward into her, his limbs motioned for her to ease backwards onto the bed. She followed his lead, sitting back slowly, and then resting on her elbows for another forceful push from his mouth.

"Wait," she said through smothered lips, his mouth still on hers. "I just made the bed!" He responded with a grin and another vigorous move, pressing into her lips and body so hard that she was forced to slide backwards on the bed. _What a stupid remark_, she thought. Her self-anger diminished as her elbows slid out from under her weight, and her back rested flat on the bed. He was completely on top of her, rarely releasing his mouth from hers. His tongue came out from behind his own lips, just to taste the outside of hers. Her heart was beating faster, and he could hear it.

His hips pressed downwards in a deep motion, his thigh sliding between her knees. His weight on her body drove her wild, as he pinned her to the bed. Releasing her lips from his, he lightly touched all around her face with the tips of his fingers. She stared up into his eyes which seemed to be growing darker with passion each second. Stopping at her mouth, the tip of his thumb slid between her parted lips, and was met by a wet tongue.

With his free hand, he reached down to their waists to undo their restricting pants. Zippers and buttons successfully undone, he grabbed her wrists and gently pinned them on either side of her head. She loved it when he did that, and he could tell by the way her heart raced.

His hips pressed into hers again as their lips parted, pushing hard bone into bone. Still holding her wrists, he gently kissed her jaw, then her throat, and she turned her head in pleasure as he licked from her collar bone up to her ear lobe. Gasping slightly at the sensation, he smiled at how he could make her writhe. The trail left by his wet lips and tongue felt cold as it slowly dried and faded.

Letting go of her wrists he sat up to tug her pants down slightly, revealing pink underwear. He smirked, and then locked eyes with her as she shot upwards; grabbing his shirt and pulling him back down on top of her. She was overcome by lust. Through a clanking of loosened buttons on slowly-migrating pants, they kissed vivaciously, swiveling heads and moistening lips with saliva.

"Is it weird?" she panted into his mouth, their hips grinding in sync.

"Is what weird?" he breathed back. She stopped his feverish bobbing kisses by grasping his head in her hands.

"That I've fallen in love with a murderer." That word made is eyes widen, filling his heart with glee. He grinned and brought his finger up to her forehead, playfully drawing a line across with his finger. Leaning into her, his lips grazing her ear, he breathed, "Brains."

She shuddered at the word, thanking her God that she didn't have ability for him to consume. For the first time since they had started dating, she wondered just how safe she really was.

Those thoughts were quickly broken as he attacked her again lustfully. They clashed together in a hot mess of limbs, sweat, and moaning mouths. Each electrifying touch was returned, every wet kiss reciprocated. Her last thought before escaping into blinding orgasmic pleasure was,

_we'll have to change the sheets again_.

-FIN-

* * *

Ugh, I really don't like this one much. Consider it scrap. 


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